


Unsteady

by theoreoqueen



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Boy Blaine, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreoqueen/pseuds/theoreoqueen
Summary: Kurt Hummel's greatest enemy was his college roommate. Tattooed, pierced, and having a reputation of sleeping with every guy on campus, Blaine Anderson seemed to have an idiotic idea that Kurt was madly in love with him. Which, granted, wasn't far from the truth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I have risen from the grave. Originally, this story started out as a gift to a friend, then I just couldn't stop writing about it, so I decided to actually publish it. Surprisingly, it is the first time I have written something fully before publishing it, so I can promise a scheduale for uploads! One chapter per day, eh?  
> Couple disclaimers: this fic takes place at Ohio State for pure convenience. I have never been to this college irl so I have no idea how accurate anything is. ALSO I have never majored nor have a single clue what it is like to be a Drama major. It is out of total speculation, I apologize to any actual Drama majors out there.

Kurt knew, he absolutely _knew_ what was going to be behind his dorm door.

Huffing, he grabbed the handle and twisted it (unlocked, as always, _typical_ ) then shoved the door open, bellowing as soon as he saw the sight in front of him.

“ _STOP HAVING SEX IN MY ROOM, YOU IMBECILES_.”

It had not been the first time he had shouted this at his roommate.

Thankfully, it must have been the aftermath, for the guest and Kurt’s roommate weren’t in any compromising situation. Though, they were still naked, and the guest (blonde twink, long nose, horrible acne around his chin) squeaked out of fright, falling from the bed and onto the floor, hastily grabbing his clothes before darting past Kurt and out of the room, bare as the day he was born.

Kurt didn’t even pay attention to that. No, he was focused on the smirking idiot reclining under the covers.

“We have _rules_ , remember?” Kurt said sternly. “No one is to bring guests over without informing the other roommate first—”

“Oh, please, that rule obviously only applies to me.”

“ _No_ , Blaine! It applies to both!”

Of course it was Kurt’s luck he had to room with _him_. Blaine Anderson—tattooed, pierced, wild curls and signature leather jacket (although _that_ was currently lying on the floor)—had quite a reputation. Sure, when they first met each other he hadn’t struck Kurt as _this_ type. He had been quiet and reserved, and Kurt thought, despite their obvious differences, they could get along.

But soon enough, his true colors shone through. What _could_ be said about Blaine Anderson? He got accepted into Ohio State thanks to his alumni father. Majorless, smoker, sleeps with as many boys as he possibly can, and living his days without a care.

And, he seemed to put extra effort into irritating the _hell_ out of Kurt.

Blaine tilted his head at Kurt, twisting the pillow case along with him. “So why don’t you bring any dates here, huh Hummel?”

Kurt scowled and blushed scarlet, stomping over to dump his bag on his desk.

“Is it because you’re too in love with me?”

_Here we go._

“Can it, Anderson.”

Blaine seemed to have this insane idea that, like every other non-straight male on this campus, Kurt was head over heels for him. Which was _untrue_ , regardless of what Mercedes and Tina kept teasing him for. Two gay guys _can_ be just friends with each other. Or mortal enemies, in Kurt’s case. Because they hated each other. That was all.

“It’s okay to admit it.” He heard Blaine’s bed squeak from movement, which meant he was probably now standing naked in the middle of their room _._ Kurt’s cheeks grew incredibly hotter. “I can’t blame you, I am _quite_ attractive.”

Kurt groaned, turning away from his desk and covering his eyes with a hand. “Spoiler alert: I actually hate you.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I can see your ears blushing.”

“ _Please leave me alone so I can study!_ ”

A pause, and Kurt almost expected Blaine to shoot back a witty one liner, but instead his roommate sighed a, “damn,” and rustled around to pick up his clothes. A few moments later the door could be heard opening and closing, leaving Kurt in silence.

Finally, he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, seeing Blaine’s rumpled bed opposite of Kurt’s neatly made one. They were completely different people—Kurt having hung up posters of Broadway shows and Blaine’s wall bare. Kurt’s desk was neatly organized while Blaine’s was covered in junk. Kurt was steady, Blaine was a storm.

So he exhaled, feeling deflated. He couldn’t tell Blaine, he absolutely could make _no indication whatsoever_.

He frowned and blushed furiously at his imagination, hurrying to his homework, trying to push away the thought of his roommate. Someone who hadn’t even _kissed_ a boy, being stupidly in love with someone like Blaine Anderson.

 

* * *

 

“Tina, for the _last_ time, Kurt doesn’t want to go on a blind date.”

“Um, of course he does? Why are you speaking for him anyway, Mercedes?”

“He’ll tell you exactly the same thing. Kurt, tell Tina what you think of a blind date.”

Kurt glanced up from his music theory textbook, actually taking advantage of the library and not gossiping like his friends were. He looked between their anticipated faces, and said with a deadpan, “I don’t want a blind date.”

“See!”

“But _Kurt_ ,” Tina pleaded, her clasped hands now atop the table. “He’s super cute.”

“That’s what you say about every guy you try to match me with,” Kurt muttered, flipping the page.

Tina huffed as Mercedes laughed. The librarians were definitely glaring their way. “Kurt,” Tina said, now counting off her fingers as she listed, “He’s gay, he’s single, he’s a Psychology major, he was _super_ into you when I told him—”

“ _Tina_ ,” Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, “I love you, and I appreciate you not wanting me to die alone, but I’m fine, really—”

“He’s still too hung up on his roommate,” Mercedes teased, nudging Tina’s arm.

Kurt froze. His body temperature cranked to approximately the heat of the sun. He looked at his friends, saying, “I am not hung up on—”

But Mercedes was rolling her eyes and Tina was snickering.

Kurt slammed his textbook shut. The librarian actually shushed him for that. “Blaine Anderson” he hissed, “is an arrogant, untidy, rude, ungrateful—”

“But _sexy_ ,” Mercedes said with a grin.

“ _—annoyance_ in my life,” Kurt finished, ignoring her statement. He refused to let this go on longer. “I do not care about him in the least.” Blaine didn’t like him, and he wasn’t supposed to like Blaine. End of story.

And when the girls still looked unconvinced, Kurt lifted his chin and said to Tina, “In fact, I _do_ want to go on that date.”

At least that made both their jaws drop. “You’re serious?” Mercedes asked the same time Tina squealed in delight.

“This is so great!” She whipped out her cell. “His name is Ethan. He’s so awesome, you’re gonna love him, I swear. Do you want his number? Or how about his Snapchat…?”

 

* * *

 

“What’s the occasion, Hummel?” Blaine asked him, taking an earbud out and looking away from his laptop screen.

He hadn’t even bothered a glance when Kurt bustled around their room getting ready, but if course, since Kurt had been adjusting his hair in the mirror for ten minutes, he decided to say something.

Kurt refrained from rolling his eyes. “I have a date tonight, Anderson.”

_That_ got Blaine to perk up. Kurt could see his look of surprise from their mirror, and he held back a grin.

“With who?” Blaine asked.

“None of your business,” Kurt snapped, harsher than intended.

No way was he going to let Blaine spoil his moment. His victory of— _ha! See! You’re not the only one who can attract boys around here!_

Blaine scoffed, “Fine. Whatever.” And put his earbud back in, typing away on his laptop and not looking up at Kurt again.

Ethan met him outside the parking lot. He was taller than Kurt, cute in a hipster-way, and greeted him with a smile of confidence.

And as Kurt walked with him to his car, listening to Ethan talk about the restaurant they had reservations for, he could only think, _huh, he smells like Blaine’s cologne._

 

* * *

 

Kurt entered the unlocked dorm room, slamming the door shut with a deafening echo.

It had not been a good evening.

“Everything cool, Hummel?”

_God. Fucking. Damnit._

Kurt scowled to himself, refusing to face the bed off to the left wall, where, the _one_ person he did not want to talk to right now, was lounging. Instead, he huffed and marched over to his desk, shrugging off his jacket.

“C’mon, babe, what’s wrong?”

Not even the pet name could infuriate him more. _Ugh_ , and to think, this date was supposed to make him _forget_ about Blaine, have him move on. Instead the guy was a complete dick…

Suddenly, a voice was very close to him now. “Hummel?”

Kurt spun on instinct, though he soon regretted it. Now his plans of hiding his tear-streaked face from Blaine was ruined. His roommate raised his eyebrows at the sight, his hazel eyes widening in shock. “Oh, shit, what happened?”

“Nothing!” Kurt almost screamed, shoving Blaine aside to walk...he didn’t know where exactly, just _away_ from him.

Blaine, of course, wasn’t going to have any of that. He continued talking, “Weren’t you going out with...someone? Did he...say something--?”

“And why the _hell_ do you care?” Kurt snapped, too angry to restrain or filter anything. His head pounded and not even his new cardigan could make him feel better. No, if anyone deserved to have his hurt taken out on, it was Blaine. “You’re constantly infuriating me and shoving your sex life in my face! Sorry I’m a nineteen-year-old virgin, Blaine!”

“Whoa,” Blaine held his palms up in innocence, “I never said—”

“Why would I care about your pity?!” Kurt went on, stepping forward and into Blaine’s space, vision blurring with new tears. “I bet you’re so thrilled to see me heartbroken! Another thing to torment me about!”

“Hey!” Blaine retaliated this time, his thick eyebrows furrowed down. “I’m an asshole, but not _that_ much of an asshole!”

Kurt groaned, spinning on his heel and throwing his head back. “See! You’re _so_ pretentious! Do you think you’re better than everyone because you don’t have a major and just don’t care about anything? Maybe this is why you only have one night stands and never a committed relationship!”

Jaw tight, Blaine kept glaring at him, but remained silent.

“I’m sorry I’m not like you, Blaine! Sorry I want the whole romantic relationship and refusing to kiss the douche of a date because I want it to mean something and of course I have to like _you!_ ”

Blaine caught it before he himself did. “You what?”

Kurt blinked, his mind clearing out of its red haze. Oh, no. Did he really—?

“Nothing.”

“Oh, I think that was something.”

“Okay, _no!_ ” Kurt shook his head firmly, pointing a finger at Blaine’s chest. “No, I refuse to fall into your wooing-trap because, _surprise_ , I want an actual relationship with an actual guy who cares about my existence rather than—”

Blaine cut him off, by grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

And wow.

Kurt was being kissed.

It was...everything he pictured and more. No forceful tongues or awkward movements. Just soft lips pressed against his. Kurt’s brain went stupid with it.

Blaine knew what he was doing, and kissed him sweetly, gracefully, and without any expectations beyond that. His hands framing Kurt’s face were gentle too, quite unlike Blaine’s harsh exterior Kurt’s always known.

Blaine broke it, and Kurt was in too much of a daze to say anything. He managed to blink his eyes open, like coming out of a dream. Blaine was looking at him, still caressing his face, one of his thumbs soothing Kurt’s jaw as he smiled, gently and beautiful.

“You never thought,” Blaine said, “that I was head over heels for you too?”

 

* * *

 

They kissed and they kissed and they didn’t stop.

Hands wandered to Blaine’s skin. At his arms and to his neck. Kurt found the tiny hairs curling upward at the nape of Blaine’s neck. He liked playing with them, then gripping them.

He was being lead somewhere, and he didn’t stop it. Blaine’s hands left his face and went to Kurt’s hips, and Kurt didn’t mind.

The sky was so dark now.

Blaine’s mouth was addicting and so soft. Did he constantly use ChapStick? His hands were broad and strong, and fitted their way under Kurt’s cardigan, smoothing along his bare spine.

When his body lay horizontal on the mattress, and he watched Blaine crawl over top him, shucking his own shirt off only to kiss him again, Kurt knew he shouldn’t be scared.

He was shivering, but he wasn’t scared.

How could he think about anything when Blaine kept kissing him and kissing him...

 

* * *

 

Kurt woke up in his bed, but not by himself.

He frowned, his brain processing what exactly was going on. Firstly, he obviously realized he wasn’t alone given another weight was pressing the mattress down. Secondly, his shirt was off. Thirdly, the messy bed across the room was empty.

His heart stopped. Then, an arm slid around his bare torso, and warm skin pressed against his back.

“Mm, good morning, beautiful.”

The voice was sleepy-rough against his ears, the scratch of stubble could be felt as well. Kurt tried not to panic, however his heart fluttered and he felt so comfortable…

But Blaine had slept in his bed. With him. He shared a bed with a boy.

And said boy kept humming against his ear before planting kisses on his neck, sending shivers across Kurt’s skin. His arm recoiled in order to smooth his hand down Kurt’s rib cage, then over his hip, then right at the edge of his sweatpants—

Kurt immediately flipped around to face Blaine, startling his roommate enough to have him pull back.

“Um,” Kurt said, awkwardly. “I...I have to tell you something.”

“That you’re a virgin? Yeah, you told me after you yelled at me yesterday.”

_Crap_. He forgot half the stuff he snapped at Blaine. But he did remember the kiss, and how they kissed again, and kept kissing...and how Blaine leaned him back on his bed and…

Kurt’s cheeks turned bright red. “So. I don’t really want to have sex right now.”

“Oh.” Blaine shrugged. “I was just gonna give you a good-morning-handjob.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt couldn’t help but giggle at how casually Blaine could say that. “That’s still technically sex.”

“Depends on your concept of virginity.”

“And I think that counts as sex.”

Blaine sighed, hanging his head before lifting it up, grinning crookedly at him. “Alright. I promise I won’t do any funny business until you say so.”

Kurt was actually taken aback. “You’re serious?”

“Hell yeah.”

“You’re...not just going to abandon me because I want to keep it PG?”

Blaine laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “Absolutely not.”

“But…”

“I _do_ enjoy just making out, Kurt. Especially with you.” And to prove his point, Blaine covered his lips again.

And Kurt melted into it, his muscles turning to mush. Perhaps he was dreaming, because how on earth did his hot roommate kiss, spoon, then declare he wanted to keep kissing him all in one night?

If that was the case, Kurt prayed he never woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe they were dating?

They sure acted like how Kurt expected boyfriends to.

They didn’t change their Facebook statuses, sure. It seemed to be a silent agreement not to boast their relationship to the world. Kurt hadn’t told anyone anything, and he had no idea who Blaine would even tell.

But suddenly they were doing homework together, lounging on the floor between their beds. They would grab to-go boxes from the cafeteria and eat lunch together in their room. Sometimes at night they would snuggle under Blaine’s bedsheets, watching a Netflix movie from Kurt’s laptop—Kurt, of course, giving separate critics of every actor on screen and Blaine making predictions on the plot every other scene.

It was so nice. And bizarre. Incredibly bizarre. Kurt sometimes would look over at Blaine taking a nap next to him, his finished Gen Ed math homework crumpled under his arms, and wonder, _Am I dreaming? Blaine Anderson is really into me?_

Maybe this was supposed to be normal.

Except, everything changed, when Blaine asked him one day, “Do you wanna go to a party tonight?”

Kurt snapped his head away from his essay. “Huh?”

“A party,” Blaine repeated, smiling. “A frat party to be exact. My friend Sam invited me. Wanna go?”

A couple things shocked Kurt: number one, he was invited to his first college party, and number two, Blaine actually had friends.

He wanted to tell Mercedes and Tina so badly. But how does he explain that situation? They knew he would never go somewhere with Blaine _platonically…_

The house of the party thumped with music when they arrived. Practically every person was holding a plastic cup in their hand. At the doorway, Kurt felt crowded and isolated. He didn’t know them, he didn’t belong—

Then Blaine was taking his hand and winding them together. Kurt’s mouth couldn’t help but drop. They never did that in public.

“BLAINEY, MY MAN!” shouted a blonde guy with a huge smile, wrapping his arms around Blaine in a bro-type hug while also careful not to spill his drink.

“Hey, Sam,” Blaine laughed.

“Is this him?” Sam was most certainly not sober, and gawked in awe at Kurt. “This is your actual boyfriend?”

Kurt didn’t know what to say, because, hello, the literal word _boyfriend_ was just used. Which had never happened before.

But Blaine had smiled wide and nodded, bringing his arm around Kurt’s waist proudly.

What was going on?

Sam, a proper host, fetched them both matching red solo cups. Kurt never had beer before and was hesitant, but Blaine drank his casually. They stood off against the wall of the huge living room, watching the party around them like a couple of wallflowers.

“So, um,” Kurt finally said, watching his drink whirlpool as he swirled his cup.

“What?” Blaine asked over the music.

“No, sorry,” Kurt said louder, more embarrassed than before. “I just wanted to ask…”

He chickened out, not even sure why. _Are we really dating?_ It wasn’t too difficult of a sentence. But Blaine was leaning in close to hear him properly and there were people _all around_ them and…

“I just wanted to ask how you met Sam.”

“Oh!” Blaine smiled. He was beautiful when he did that. “We’re both in that Gen Ed math class together. We usually partner up for assignments because I’m the only one who knows what’s going on.”

“You’re good at math?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged and took a drink.

“Then...why aren’t you majoring in it?”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it.”

A new song came through the speakers and it must be a favorite here, for the party goers cheered. It only made Kurt tighten his mouth and shrink back a bit.

Blaine nudged his arm. “You good?”

“I—” He wasn’t so sure.

Blaine took both of their cups and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. “Hey, c’mon, let’s take a break.” He then grabbed Kurt’s hand for the second time that night and led him out of the room.

If Blaine was trying to find a quiet area, he wasn’t having much luck. Every hallway had people chatting. Every bedroom was either locked or occupied. Kurt was about to say it was alright, they could return and he could deal, but on the second floor a door to the bathroom finally opened, and Blaine grinned smugly at Kurt, taking him inside.

It wasn’t terrible, given it was a bathroom belonging to a fraternity. There was no vomit next to the toilet so Kurt called that a plus. At least he could breathe in here. He sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against the sink counter.

Blaine stood across from him, hands stuffed in his jean pockets, studying him. “We could go if you want.”

“No! No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, babe.” Blaine paused, then smirked. “I mean, you always look _fine_ , but still…”

Kurt gave him a wry look. “Ha ha.”

The lights here were fluorescent and the walls were white, contrasting the darkly lit scene downstairs. He could still hear the bass-driven music, and could feel it under his feet. Loud footsteps passed them outside the bathroom, but Blaine had locked the door.

Coming up to him, Blaine removed his hands from his pockets and slowly put them on Kurt’s waist, suggesting him to perhaps sit on the counter top. Kurt did without complaint, because he was so tired and sitting would be _so_ nice…

From his view now, Blaine was shorter than normal, which was amusing. But this meant Blaine placed his palms on either side of the counter, coming between Kurt’s knees and staring up at him, thinking with a crooked mouth. “What’s up?”

“What? Blaine, I told you, I’m fine.”

“No, c’mon, Kurt.” He started using his first name the moment after they kissed. Kurt quite liked it. “Be honest, do you wanna go back to the dorms?”

“No, I—” He didn’t know. “I just…” He shrugged, looking off to the side. “I admit, since this is my first college party ever I was a bit freaked out but…” He looked back at Blaine. “They’re your friends. You wanted to be here with them.”

Blaine laughed and shook his head, curls bouncing a bit. “Kurt, they’ll be too hungover in the morning to even remember we came. I want to do what you want to do.”

Tonight, Blaine wore a pair of his blue skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It was a v-neck, Kurt could see his collarbone peeking out underneath. He stared at it, fidgeting his folded hands. “It’s nice...just being in here.”

Finally, an answer. Blaine pouted his mouth and looked around. “Could be a shittier bathroom.”

“It is hot, though.” Kurt tugged at the sleeves of his sweater.

Blaine grinned, one corner of his lips going higher than the other and Kurt already _knew_ what he was going to say, so he beat Blaine to the punchline. “And _no_ , it’s not because of you.”

They both ended up laughing, and Blaine’s hands slid back to Kurt’s waist, inching backwards to cup around his ass. Which, wasn’t new, but Kurt still inhaled sharply at the touch.

“I was going to say it was _your_ fault,” Blaine replied, then leaned on his tiptoes to kiss him.

Blaine’s mouth tasted different, like the beer Kurt didn’t drink before. But his lips moved the same—wet and full, parting then closing against Kurt’s in a rhythmic motion. Kurt’s eyebrows lowered, and his senses zoomed in on only this, instead of the chaos still happening outside their sanctuary.

Blaine’s hands squeezed lightly on his ass, and Kurt squeaked. Grinning against his mouth, Blaine yanked him closer, making their bodies as close together as possible.

The party was still thriving but Kurt could barely hear anything at this point. His hands wound into Blaine’s shirt or rested at his warm neck. Blaine would squeeze his ass tighter, digging his fingertips into Kurt’s jeans.

Kurt’s heart raced faster now, not from anxiety, but from something else.

It was the moment Kurt felt the stiffness pushing against the front of his pants begin to rub against Blaine’s stomach that he broke the kiss. Blaine looked surprised, but retreated his hands immediately.

“What is it?” he asked. His mouth was so pink.

Kurt took a second to loosen his grip on Blaine’s shirt and hair, and inhaled once before saying, “I do have to ask you something.”

Blaine dropped his shoulders, golden eyes going soft. “Okay.”

It wasn’t as if his arousal had frightened him, if that’s what Blaine thought. They always got accidental boners while making out. But tonight felt different. Did Blaine realize why?

“I wanted to ask,” Kurt finally said, slowly, “are we...boyfriends? Like, official boyfriends?”

Blaine blinked. “Yeah.” He cocked his head like a puppy. “I mean, if that’s cool with you.”

The relief that washed over Kurt was a tidal wave of happiness. He grinned so wide it squinted his eyes. “Yes, that is _totally_ cool with me.”

 

* * *

 

A week later, they rearranged their dorm room.

Now their beds combined into one big bed. Blaine talked about getting a futon for all the extra space they now had. Kurt couldn’t help but blush and grin—their relationship seemed so serious.

Blaine was a cuddler, latching onto anything like a koala as he slept. Kurt would come back in late at night after doing homework with Mercedes, and crawl into their bed as Blaine snored softly. Once he laid down beside him, Blaine’s arms wrapped around his chest and his head tucked into Kurt’s neck, still snoring.

It was adorable, especially when Blaine would blush pink and deny such things in the morning.

Though, there was still something Kurt hadn’t done yet…

He sat across Mercedes and Tina in the cafeteria, playing with the straw in his cup and half-listening to their conversation about their horrible History of Theater professor.

“He has favorites, I’m _telling_ you.”

“Which is fucking stupid. Like, _sorry_ I hate class participation.”

How does Kurt casually mention this?

That he and his roommate, whom he stated he hated multiple times before, were now going steady?

Kurt chewed his bottom lip and wondered.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Mercedes asked, tapping her foot against his leg.

Kurt’s head shot up, and they were both staring at him, waiting. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shaking his head and answering, “Um, nothing, uh…” He glanced at Tina. “H-how are you and Artie?”

Artie, Tina’s newest boyfriend, majored in Media Studies. He occasionally joined them at meals but always said hi to Kurt whenever they passed each other in the hallway. Tina smiled happily. “Good. We have tickets to see the newest Marvel movie in 3-D this weekend. His idea, not mine, even though none of the 3-D glasses fit over _his_ glasses…”

Mercedes suddenly nudged her arm. “Hey! Tell Kurt about Artie’s friend!”

“OH!” Tina frantically went to her phone, startling Kurt at the urgency. “Kurt, hear me out, Artie has a friend in his Film Studies class named Justin—”

_‘Super cute_ ,’ Mercedes mouthed.

“—and he was telling Artie how he hasn’t had a good date since he broke up with his boyfriend…” Tina trailed off, her eyebrows going higher along with her voice, as if she hoped Kurt would get the hint.

He did.

But this time, he was more than unimpressed. He was angry.

(At himself, let’s be fair.)

“I don’t need another blind date,” Kurt said, a bit sharper than intended.

Tina rolled her eyes. “Kurt, c’mon, I know your last date was shit, but just give him a chance. He’s a junior, he’s—”

“No, Tina, seriously.” He stopped fiddling with his straw to look straight at her. “I don’t _need_ a date, because I’m already _dating_ someone.”

Their jaws dropped in sync.

Kurt didn’t move, he didn’t know if he should. However, the deafening silence broke when their questions came swarming in at once.

“Wait, who?”

“WHAT?!”

“Tell me it ain’t Ethan—”

“Since when?!”

“Tell us who!”

Kurt’s neck felt very hot, and he tried to repress his mouth from a smile but failed. “Blaine,” he said.

At their confusion he clarified, “Blaine Anderson.”

The entire campus must have heard their thrilled shrieks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Warning: there's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it mention of attempted use of a 'date rape' drug in this chapter. Nothing happens from it, it's not even put into effect, and no characters are harmed, but there's a brief mention and I thought I should give a quick warning.

Perhaps the shared bed was a bad idea.

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt said for the third time, shoulders shaking with giggles as his boyfriends leaned in to kiss his neck. “C’mon, you have to study. You have a quiz tomorrow.”

Blaine’s lips stopped, and he groaned in frustration as he leaned backwards and flopped onto the bed, crossed legs unfolding and his arms spreading like a starfish. “It’s not like it matters. It’s just Intro to Biology.”

“Which is a Gen Ed you need to pass in order to graduate.” Kurt poked Blaine’s knee with the note card.

Blaine closed his eyes and groaned again.

Kurt’s noticed the changes with Blaine; it’s not like his boyfriend had been subtle. Like how today he actually wore clean sweatpants and a white t-shirt without stains. Kurt once mentioned how he liked the smell of Blaine’s laundry detergent, and the next day he came into the room finding Blaine folding clothes from his first load of laundry he’s done all year. Kurt made a joke how Blaine’s stubble scratches when they kiss, and in the morning Blaine woke up early to shave.

He’s actually taking care of himself, like a normal human being. Except for one thing.

“Do you care about your grades?” Kurt asked, voice now serious.

Blaine frowned and covered his eyes with his arm. “I dunno, Kurt.”

“Blaine—”

“Well!” He sat up quickly, frowning, clearly uncomfortable with this topic but hiding it with exasperation. “It’s not like I’m going to do fucking anything with my life, anyway!”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure you can find a major—”

“ _But I don’t care about majors, Kurt!_ ”

They stared at each other, expressions hard. They were both always so stubborn. Kurt moved first, however, to drop the study notes and ask, “Well, why did you go to college then?”

A wall around Blaine fell down.

He never talked much about his life. Kurt never really asked. He knew Blaine came from Westerville. He knew he went to Dalton Academy, a boy’s prep school of all places, before coming here. That was pretty much it.

“My—dad, I guess” Blaine eventually admitted, after they pushed their notes and bags aside. Kurt had moved near him, petting the back of his curly hair. “He’s an alumni. He donated a lot of money here, so he has connections.” Blaine shrugged. “He wants me to be more like him, I think.”

“What does your dad do?”

“He’s a doctor.”

Kurt couldn’t help but snort from surprise.

It got Blaine to laugh. “I know right? But, I dunno, I’m not really good at anything. Not like you.” He bumped Kurt with his shoulder.

“You’re good at math. And biology. You got, like, all your vocab right.”

“But I don’t wanna do math or biology for the rest of my life.”

Kurt tilted his mouth. “What do you want to do the rest of your life?”

Sighing, Blaine fell backwards again, his head hitting Kurt’s pillow. “Just...live, I guess?”

Unable to argue, Kurt settled down beside him, cheek on his shoulder, inhaling the smell of laundry detergent. He felt Blaine’s arm wrap about him as the room grew quiet.

_Just live._ Huh. Could Kurt ever _just_ do that?

 

* * *

 

“Please tell me Blaine has _at least_ popped your cherry by now.”

Taking a moment from hanging up posters promoting the theater department’s Drama Club, he closed his eyes and sighed, “ _No_ , Tina.”

Her red painted lips popped when she dropped her jaw. “You’re joking.”

“What?” He shrugged, taping the corners of the poster while careful to make sure the rest didn’t fall from under his arm. “It’s only been a month—”

“Exactly! A month!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. Thank god this particular hallway was empty, no one heard her shouting. “Do you want to know how long Artie and I waited until we started having sex?!”

“Not really—”

“The second date!”

He sighed again. “Alright—”

“And that’s only because my roommate refused to give us alone time!”

“Go Brittany.”

“ _Kurt_.” Tina abandoned her pile of posters and strode on over to him, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “I mean, honestly, do you just...not want to?”

“Of course I _want_ to!” Kurt hated feeling embarrassed, but Tina is always stubborn for answers. “I just…” He angry ripped off the fourth piece of tape, “want it to be the right moment.”

Tina placed a hand over her heart, smiling proudly. “That’s so romantic.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious!” She followed him as he moved to the next spot on the wall. “But I’m just surprised I guess. I thought Blaine would’ve tried to shred those skinny jeans off you the first chance he got.”

“I mean he—” He hadn’t really, had he? Kurt tried to recall. Well, there was that first night when they kissed, but all Blaine did was go for a handjob, which he got about two-percent of the way there. Kurt stopped him and said he didn’t want it then, so Blaine retreated.

There wasn’t any other...initiation, between either of them. Even when things got hot and heavy making out, they would cool off before things went out of hand. In fact, the most _risqué_ things had gotten was the time Blaine dipped his hand in Kurt’s pants, gripping his ass with the boxers still between him and skin. And even _that_ didn’t last long.

Kurt paused.

Did Blaine assume...Kurt didn’t want to have sex _ever?_

Tina shook her head slowly. “He…what?” She was still waiting for a complete sentence.

“I—oh my god,” Kurt shoved the remaining posters in her arms. “I need to talk to my boyfriend. Like, _now_.”

 

* * *

 

Kurt unlocked their dorm room in a haste. Yeah, Blaine locked the door now. In any other moment Kurt would be thankful.

He can hear Blaine’s muffled voice behind the door, but he doesn’t think much of it. Not until the door swung open and he saw Blaine pacing around their room, a hand on his hip and his shoulders tensed as he’s talking—no, _yelling_ —into his cell phone.

“—It’s _my_ fucking life, in case you forgot, so I can do whatever I want—!”

He stopped because he saw Kurt standing there frozen.

His mouth went soft for a moment, but then he went back to saying gruffly into his phone, “I gotta go.” And hung up just like that.

The silence was deafening and Kurt’s heart was thumping too loud. “Who was…?”

“No one,” Blaine said quickly, then shook his head and sighed. “My dad.” The phone was then tossed onto their bed, and Blaine followed to sit at the end of the mattress, shoulders still stiff.

Kurt decided to slowly walk up to him, and place a hand on his shoulder. He soothed the hand across Blaine’s neck as he sat down beside him. Blaine relaxed into his touch.

Of course he remembered why he charged up here in the first place, but that seemed meaningless now. “What happened?” Kurt asked in almost a whisper.

Today Blaine wore his faded blue jeans with giant holes around his knees. They stuck out, bent against the denim. “What he always wants to talk about,” Blaine replied, anger in his voice. “My future.”

“You’re nineteen,” Kurt said. “You aren’t supposed to have it all figured out.”

“But he thinks I do!” Blaine shouted, throwing a hand up. His shoulders tensed again. Regret immediately washed over his face, and his expression turned apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes.

Every day Kurt became more aware of his impact on Blaine. He didn’t know what to think of it, honestly. Blaine actively tried not to lose his temper around Kurt, something he never cared about before. Kurt tapped his fingers against Blaine’s shoulder blades, thinking.

“He needs to understand,” Kurt said slowly, “that you’re not him. You’ll never be him. Because you’re Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine huffed a laugh, but did smile.

They sat in the quiet for a few moments, until Blaine blinked and looked over at him. “Why were you out of breath when you came in?”

“Oh.” Yeah. _That_. “I, uh—”

“Weren’t you helping Tina with something?”

“Yeah. Uh.” Nervously, his fingers drew quick, short circles against Blaine’s black shirt. “It’s—I can tell you later.” He shrugged. No big deal.

Blaine nodded, frowning only a bit. Then, being Blaine, nudged Kurt playfully and said, “Just couldn’t stay away from me, huh?”

Kurt laughed. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m irresistible.”

“You mean irritable?”

Blaine laughed again, and his eyes sparkled and squinted along with it. Oh, how Kurt wished his boyfriend could be like this always.

 

* * *

 

Mercedes suggested being blunt about it. “Just look him in the eye and say, _I want to have sex with you._ He’s a guy, Kurt, he only thinks in black and white. Or in this case, sex or no sex.”

“I’m a guy too, you know,” Kurt replied.

“Yeah, and you’re no different.” She snickered and fondly patted his cheek.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t ponder too much on timing this important question, for through Tina’s roommate, he and Blaine were invited to a sorority party.

Which was a big deal, because Kurt has never hung out with Blaine and his friends _together_.

It wasn’t _as_ chaotic as Sam’s party, but it wasn’t mild either. Some Top 40 hit was blasting through the speakers, and Kurt tried not to freak out over the fact that he was standing between a glammed-out Mercedes and a nonchalant Blaine. It was like two universes colliding.

“So, who do we know here?” Blaine asked, deciding to start conversation after they acquired their solo cups. The living room was too crowded, and the hallway had more space to converse.

Mercedes lowered her cup and waved her hand. “Brittany’s girlfriend is part of this sorority.”

“And...who’s Brittany?” Blaine asked, glancing at Kurt.

“Tina’s roommate,” Kurt said, loudly over the clamor of the party.

“And where’s Tina?”

“Off to find her boyfriend,” Mercedes responded.

Blaine sort of laughed and drank more of his beer.

Kurt kept being extremely worried for no reason at all.

The night continued on and Blaine kept having to interact with people Kurt knew, but Blaine didn’t, so Kurt worried. He was introduced to theater classmates or Artie’s film friends and Kurt eyed his boyfriend nervously.

Tina, intoxicated, had pointed Blaine out to the newest members of their conversation and said, “See that? That’s Kurt’s new boo, _Blaine Anderson_.”

The trio of nerdy yet tastefully fashionable media majors smiled politely at him. “What are you studying?” one of them asked.

Blaine shrugged. “The art of holding my drink,” and he grinned at Tina knowingly.

The group burst out laughing as Tina dropped her mouth in mock offense. Kurt laughed awkwardly as well, trying to convince himself that Blaine was having fun and didn’t think Kurt’s friends were lame or boring…

“You feeling okay?” Mercedes asked him, touching his arm.

Kurt snapped out of his thoughts and nodded at her quickly. “Mhmm! I was, um, just thinking to,” he began backing away, gesturing his hands a lot, “getting...a...drink…” and he made his way to the kitchen.

Perhaps alcohol _was_ the solution. It takes the edge off, doesn’t it…? Kurt could not be _any_ more clueless on this subject.

He brought his red cup back to the group, which had migrated into the living room area to talk to more of Artie’s friends. Blaine was silent as he listened in the background, one hand in his jacket pocket and the other lifting his cup to his lips. He gave Kurt a funny look when he saw him with a drink.

“You like beer?” Blaine asked.

Kurt gave a noncommittal shrug, not looking at Blaine as he took his first sip. (It tasted _awful_ , oh my god).

“We can...go, if you want—”

“No, no, let’s stay,” Kurt nodded too much to be considered normal, but he looked at Blaine and asked, “You’re having fun, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Great! Then we can stay.”

He drank some more and listened to whatever story the film majors were saying. _God,_ beer tasted bad.

The same Top 40 hit was playing again by request when Kurt’s group ended up on some empty sofas. Kurt could feel himself becoming less and less interested with his friend’s discussions. Mercedes and Tina were laughing obnoxiously across from him. Blaine had gone to the bathroom, leaving the spot next to Kurt empty.

Only for a moment.

A tall, thin man took Blaine’s spot, saying, “You’re Kurt, right?”

It took a second to notice him, thanks to the spacing out, but Kurt stared at him with his mouth parted, his brain putting together what exactly was happening.

The mystery man smiled. “I’m Justin. Tina’s told me so much about you.” Two cups were in his hands, and he offered one to Kurt. “Here, I saw you were finished with yours.”

Justin. The puzzle pieces clicked. Oh...blind-date-Justin. One of the nerdy yet fashionable people. He wore chunky black glasses and a beige sweater Kurt could appreciate. He was incredibly close to Kurt, as in hips-connected close.

Kurt hadn’t finished his drink. He had thrown it away because it tasted terrible.

He didn’t know what to say, but they were interrupted with a harsh, “Ahem.” Turning their heads, Kurt’s eyes widened at the sight of his boyfriend standing in front of them, his jaw tight and his glare aimed directly at Justin.

“Pardon me,” Blaine said, any form of manners dripped in sarcasm, “but that’s my seat.”

Justin sort of scoffed. “I’m sitting here now.” And he turned back to Kurt, offering the drink again.

Blaine yanked Justin away by the arm holding the offered beer, shoving him roughly. “Get lost, creep,” he snarled.

Justin, first shocked at the spilled drops on his pants, now glared at Blaine. Which, given the glasses, wasn’t that intimidating. “What’s your deal, man?”

“That’s my _boyfriend_.”

“ _You—_?” He looked at Kurt, then back to Blaine, then squinted. Kurt could see the gears working. “You’re Blaine Anderson, aren’t you?!” Justin’s voice rose in anger. “You’re the slut my ex cheated on me with!”

“Not my problem.” Blaine shoved him harder, and Justin almost tripped onto a group of intoxicated dancers. He scowled and cursed and stomped away.

Kurt was in this frozen shock when Blaine sat next to him.

...And the party continued on, like nobody around them was bothered what just happened. What _did_ just happen?

“Um,” Kurt’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat. “What—why—”

“I saw him slip something into that drink,” Blaine replied, voice tight. He exhaled deeply and shook his curls. “At least, I think I did—I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I did that thing again. Lash out. _Fuck_ , sorry.”

“Do you want to leave?” Kurt asked.

Blaine exhaled again, staring soft-eyes at Kurt. “Do _you_ want to?”

Mercedes and Tina were cackling at someone’s story. They probably forgot Kurt and Blaine were still sitting there. Kurt found Blaine’s hand and linked it with his. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, two AM in the boy’s dorm building on a Friday night was almost dead quiet. Kurt figured those who were usually obnoxious were at the parties around campus. Those opposite were probably already asleep.

Blaine switched on their light and Kurt winced at the sudden brightness. They were alone, and his stomach had eased, his pulse beat steady. He sat down on the mattress and unlaced his boots.

After shucking off his jacket and tossing it on his desk chair, Blaine sniffed the shirt he was wearing and made a frown. “Ugh, I smell like drunk people. I’ll shower in the morning, I guess.”

Kurt perked his head up, watching his boyfriend. His lean, tanned boyfriend. With a loose-fitting shirt but your eyes couldn’t help but go to his toned arms and the collarbone peeking out from the v-neck. Blaine ran a hand through his wildly curly hair, sighing and not noticing Kurt. And Kurt watched him, and swallowed.

“Well,” he said, voice shockingly even, “you could take a shower tonight.”

“It’s late. And I’ll be fine.”

“I mean, I was thinking of taking one too, so—”

“We should sleep, it’s been a long—” Blaine paused when he realized what he had interrupted Kurt of. “‘So?’”

“Yeah.” Kurt’s neck felt warm suddenly. He played with his fingers out of a nervous tick. “Well. I mean. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that.” His eyes darted away, hoping he seemed nonchalant about the idea. Inside his heart fluttered rapidly.

Daringly, he glanced at Blaine, who was giving him that same _look_ he gave Kurt the first time they kissed. When Kurt blurted out his affections. A curl of the lip and the squint of one eye, mouth parted as if about to speak, _Did you really just say…?_

“Kurt Hummel,” Blaine said, walking towards him, grin widening. “Are you inviting me to join your shower?”


	4. Chapter 4

This was stupid.

_No, this was fine_.

No one used the showers at two AM, thank god. That's just what Kurt needed—eavesdroppers on top of _this_.

The whole process from Step One in the room to Step Two in the shower stall was probably the most adrenaline Kurt's body handled in a while. The haste Blaine made to strip of his clothing didn't give Kurt time to process that _this was happening_. The shower head was on before Kurt could fathom that's what he'll be under, with Blaine, in no time.

The air was quite chilly once his robe was off. He held it to his chest for a moment, eyes widening as he examined their setting one last time.

Blaine, only in his underwear (which he was _not_ shy to finally show in front of Kurt. His legs were tan and strong. Kurt tried not to ogle at his butt for too long), turned away from testing out the water to study Kurt, and ask, "You ready?"

Kurt held the robe closer. "Mhmm!"

Instead of making some sarcastic remark about how Kurt needed to be _naked_ in the shower, Blaine stepped towards him, touching his arm, voice dropping quiet, "We don't...if you're not comfortable we don't have to."

"Are you kidding? Of course I want to!" His words echoed against the tile, and Kurt blushed. What if they were too loud?

"But—okay, listen. Kurt, I know you want your first time to be special and romantic and all that, but I can't guarantee I won't be able to...keep it PG if I," Blaine's voice caught. "See you. Like this."

Kurt could see his chest rising and falling fast, and his golden eyes kept darting around Kurt's face. _Be blunt about it_. He couldn't help but smile a bit. "I didn't exactly want to keep it PG tonight, Blaine," he whispered, and dropped the robe.

It was cramped in the small shower stall. Not enough room to walk around with one person, much less two. They faced each other, but Kurt tilted his head up at the falling water, closing his eyes as it washed down his face. It was hot, but he crossed his arms to keep from shivering.

No big deal, he was just standing there, stark naked, with his equally stark naked boyfriend. Is he _supposed_ to stare below the waist from here on out? Is that protocol for this situation?

Fingertips touched his waist, and Kurt tilted his head back down only to be greeted with a kiss. Familiar lips, still an exciting setting. His heart flew like a hyperactive butterfly up his chest. Blaine was slow, parting his slippery mouth almost carefully against Kurt's. He uncrossed his arms, and placed his hands on Blaine's wet and warm shoulders.

He changed his mind. This was a _great_ idea.

Their feet bumped against each other when Blaine backed him against the tiled wall. He made a little moan against Kurt's mouth, fingertips digging into his hips as he pressed their bodies together. Kurt's eyebrows rose. He could feel _everything_.

Including, to be crude, his boyfriend's dick.

Blaine's kisses became messier by the minute. He abandoned Kurt's lips in order to kiss his jaw and then suck at his neck. Kurt forced himself to halt the noises about to escape his throat. He clutched Blaine's wet hair and kept him close.

Nerves spiked up and down his skin with the _newness_ of it all. He could see Blaine's tattoos that weaved around his shoulder muscles—beautiful artworks which must've cost a fortune. Sadly, he couldn't keep his eyes focused on them, for when Blaine latched on to a spot right under his ear, all forces crumbled. His eyelids shut and he _groaned_.

How could he worry about getting caught when Blaine kept rutting against him like tomorrow might not arrive?

" _Kurt_ ," he whispered into his ear, voice sounding gruffer than even after their heavier make outs. "Kurt, baby. I want you so bad."

Kurt opened his eyes, staring at the wall opposite of them. "I want you, too," he whispered back.

The water kept raining down, across Blaine's back and dripping through his curly hair. He _whined_ , high in the back of his throat, and buried his face into Kurt's neck.

Loosening his grip on Blaine's hair, Kurt let his shoulders relax, and he said with less panting, "I want everything with you."

Blaine nodded slowly, his puffs of breath evening out. After a few moments, he began to peck a trail of short kisses on Kurt's neck and down to his shoulder. They were gentle, and a brush of coolness against the heat of the water. Kurt watched in anticipation as Blaine continued down to his collarbone and chest, big eyes keeping contact through his long, spiky eyelashes.

Chest heaving faster the more Blaine's mouth traveled lower, over his abdomen and ghosting over his patch of hair under the belly button, Kurt realized he didn't know what to do with his hands. He flattened them against the wall behind him. "Blaine," he said.

"Mm?" Blaine placed a long kiss at the edge of his hip, still looking at him.

"Are you...going to…?"

"Is that alright?"

He choked out a laugh. As if the erection three inches away from Blaine's face wasn't an obvious sign. "Yeah. Oh, my god."

Droplets streaked down Blaine's nose and cheeks when he grinned up at him. "I've never done this before," he told Kurt. "Shower sex. So, it's a first for me, too."

"Oh." Kurt's legs trembled. He hadn't been expecting that.

Then Blaine's hand was around him, and his knees almost gave away. Then his mouth was around him, and Kurt almost fell apart.

One hand slapped over his mouth as the other unsuccessfully grasped at the tile wall. Everything felt like too much at once. The heat and the pressure and...Blaine's _moans_.

Kurt realized, now, that everything was out of his control. He couldn't keep his voice in check, even though his palm muffled the sounds. His hips couldn't stay still, they twitched and jerked along with Blaine's steady and practiced motions. His free hand balled into a fist. The vulnerability was terrifying, the rushing pleasure was astonishing.

One of Blaine's hands left his leg to slowly reach up, taking his fist and unfurling it. Confused, Kurt watched, and Blaine (with his pink lips still circling his cock and his big eyes gazing up and Kurt absolutely _cannot handle this_ ) guided it to his hair.

The corner of his mouth curled before he carried on. Kurt still remained puzzled, until it clicked and more heat spiked over his body.

Blaine wanted him to—

_Oh_. Alright.

He dropped the hand around his mouth-the initial shock was over anyway. Now, hesitantly, he let both his hands tangle into Blaine's soaked curls. He gulped. _This is so hot._ Kurt tightened his grip only a little and Blaine _groaned_ as approval, bobbing more enthusiastically and Kurt was _so close_.

Then Blaine did this circling motion with his tongue the same time he wrapped his fingers around Kurt's cock. "Blaine—" Kurt's eyes squeezed shut. "Blai—" Blaine's other hand snuck in to cup his balls. "Bl—" His jaw dropped.

He didn't mean to _clutch_ Blaine's hair so hard when he came. Kurt just needed some sort of anchor to keep him steady as Blaine swallowed around him, continuing to jerk him through his orgasm.

Kurt's surprised he didn't rip his boyfriend's scalp off.

The water sprinkled over their skin and Kurt blinked some droplets away as he caught his breath. Blaine had detached with a slick _pop_ , his hand still around Kurt's softening cock, gently stroking it now. And still on his knees, he looked up at Kurt and made his famous smirk.

"What did you think?" he asked, eyes glinting.

Kurt huffed out a laugh, pushing hair away from his forehead and feeling too flushed to worry about a single thing again. "Oh, shut up."

 

* * *

 

"You look different today, Kurt."

"Hm, really?"

"Yeah, like...stupidly happy? Not in a bad way."

"Oh, hm."

"Oh my god, did you and Blaine…?"

"Tina, my dear, I don't kiss and tell."

Then Tina proceeded to squeal in the library until the librarians shushed her angrily.

 

* * *

 

Kurt meant what he said.

He did want everything with Blaine.

And, well, what happened in the shower was just the start of it. Sure, he was less crude than his friends (the amount of dick jokes Artie recited daily was unbelievable) but he knew how things _worked_ at least. He's watched porn before. He's not a naive duckling.

But when Blaine casually dropped the, "I had a sex dream about you last night," Kurt's understandably flabbergasted.

Sputtering, the notes he's jotting down for his Theater Analysis class jerked out of line. He looked over Blaine, wide-eyed and clearly shocked at this statement. Yet there is his boyfriend, reclining casually on their rug, using his backpack as a pillow.

"What?"

Blaine shrugged, a smile tugging his mouth. "I did."

Kurt's cardigan felt too hot to wear suddenly. He shifted in his cross-legged position, licking his dry lips. "Oh."

Blaine rolled onto his stomach, elbows propping him up but still staring at Kurt—that _look_ he kept giving him. One of desire, which melted his eyes from honey to heated gold. "Do you wanna know what happened?"

Kurt continued playing with the edge of his notebook paper, but kept eye contact. "Uh. I-I—" It wasn't like Kurt didn't want to hear what happened in Blaine's subconscious, it's just the images _he's_ conjuring up right now at the _possibilities_ … "Yeah. Sure."

Blaine's smile widened. He could probably tell Kurt was blushing. "Well, let me set up the scene. We were at Sam's fraternity house—"

"For a party?"

"No. No one was home. It was just me and you in this big empty house."

"Okay."

"And you wanted to go upstairs. So you took my hand and lead me to one of the rooms."

Kurt nodded.

"Then," Blaine leaned his chin on his knuckles, "you shut the door and kissed me."

Kurt had not stopped nodding by now. He noticed, and stood still.

"And this bedroom wasn't like the typical fraternity rooms. It had a huge bed like one you'd find in a hotel."

"Oh."

"So you lead me to it."

Kurt had to shift his posture given the straining inside his jeans.

Ever so casually, Blaine scooted closer as well, finding a lace on Kurt's boot and fiddling with it. "I started kissing your neck, and you kept asking to take my clothes off. And magically, I was just in my jeans, and you were naked."

"Unfair," Kurt whispered.

Blaine chuckled. "Don't worry, we're getting to that part soon, baby." He paused to wet his lips, and Kurt was mesmerized by it. "We, uh, kept kissing. Then you flipped me over, so you were on top and straddling me."

"Then what?"

"Then you took off my pants and blew me."

Kurt's cheeks were on _fire_.

The boot lace wove in between Blaine's fingers. He pulled at it a few times before looking up at Kurt. "Then I, you know, warned you, because I was gonna come. But you stopped anyway, because you—"

Blaine actually hesitated at this part, as if the cloud of lust disappeared momentarily. Kurt, a bit more invested than he'd admit, asked, "Because I what?"

Glancing away, Blaine opened his mouth, closed it, and then said with the same level of confidence before, "You wanted me to fuck you."

Given he was studying acting, one would think Kurt Hummel could _act_ like he was nonchalant about the situation. Say a calm, _"That's nice."_ and move on. Except, Blaine Anderson was almost like Kryptonite. Kurt couldn't hide any emotion if he tried.

"O-oh," was the best he could manage. "And?"

"And I did."

Surely, Kurt could pay for the rest of college by letting scientists research his unexplainable ability to _be as warm as the sun._

Blaine's fingers froze at his lace. He was studying Kurt's expression carefully. "Is—" He hesitated again. "Do you?"

"Huh?" Honestly, it felt like the whole world was ringing.

"Want that? With us?"

It was four-thirty in the afternoon _this was not the time to be discussing this—_

(Or was it?)

All cards on the table, Kurt _did_ want to explore further with Blaine. He was confident on _that_ part. Blowjobs were incredible, even if they're mostly done by Blaine. Kurt's attempted, but he's unsure of any techniques (regardless, Blaine claims he's amazing at it, and Kurt can't help but preen a bit). But there was more, as Blaine's dream indicated.

It's just.

The concept was lovely. The reality was a bit daunting.

Kurt might as well be ripping his notebook paper at this point. He stared down, trying to find the correct wording. "I—yes." _If you want to_ , he almost added, but by the look of excitement on Blaine's face, he clearly had the answer. "But," he pointed his pen sternly at Blaine's face. It would've been playful if Kurt's hands weren't shaking. "Not right now."

"Of course not," Blaine said, scrambling to sit up. His silver-chained necklace swung around his neck. "I'll need to get condoms, and lube, and—"

"Well, _yes_ , but," Kurt felt flustered for different reasons now, but he giggled at Blaine's enthusiasm. "We should, um, not dive in right away? Oh my god, I don't know how to say this." He stuck the pen in his mouth and bit down in self-frustration.

"Practice?" Blaine offered.

" _Yes_. Well, it's just, I've never—"

"Fingered yourself?"

" _Blaine_."

"What? That's what it is!"

"You could be more romantic about it."

" _Sorry_. You've never...lovingly placed your fingers—"

"Oh my god, _stop!_ "

"Inside your pure, untouched—"

"I am going to stab you. With this pen."

Blaine laughed loudly, and tried to steal the pen from Kurt. However, Kurt had longer arms, and kept it out of reach, even when Blaine crawled to and over him, hand on his shoulder and knees around his waist. They were both laughing now.

Yet, it seemed his boyfriend didn't mind this new position, for he took this opportunity to kiss Kurt deeply, pressing their lips harder together the longer it went on. Breaking apart, he whispered to Kurt with that same golden-eyed look, "I can't wait to do this with you."


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt’s aware he’s hardly paying attention in class recently. How can he listen to their monotone professor lecture on and on about Shakespeare or whatever when certain _other things_ distract him?

Like the text Blaine sent out this morning: _Your ass looks delicious in those jeans._

Leaning his chin on his hand, Kurt spun his pencil between his fingers and stared straight ahead, not noticing whatever the professor just wrote on the board.

Blaine continued sending messages, and Kurt stupidly read them all during this lecture.

_My class was cancelled. Decided to use this free time to entertain myself ;)_

_You have no idea how often I think about you._

_Spread out. Moaning my name._

Kurt prayed his blushing wasn't as obvious today.

Mercedes, who always sat next to him in this class, leaned over and caught the text he was (not so) secretly reading.

“ _Wanky_ ,” she whispered with a giggle, and Kurt jumped and slapped the phone against his chest, hiding away the words _I am so hard right now._

_“Mercedes!”_ he hissed back, paranoid now others were listening. However, their professor just clapped his hands together, announcing the final project for the semester.

“And don't forget to sign up for spring semester classes!” he reminded the students as they hurried to pack up their things.

Mercedes gave Kurt a huge wink when they departed separate directions to their dorms and Kurt shot her a look which said, _you’re so embarrassing_.

Blaine called him as he climbed the stairs up to their floor. For a moment, Kurt figured it would be more sexy banter, so he dropped a sweet, “ _Hellooo_?”

“Hey.” Blaine sounded as if he held back a laugh. “I noticed we were out of milk. I’m going to get some.”

Kurt froze on the steps and felt his chest fall in disappointment. “Oh.”

“Also,” Blaine coughed, awkward now. “Uh. My mother called me earlier.”

Blaine hardly mentioned his mom. He hardly mentioned his family altogether. Kurt was lucky he knew their first names. “And? How was that?”

“Yeah, you know.” He coughed again. “Um. Anyway, I told her about you.”

“Oh!” In that moment Kurt realized he hadn’t even told his _own_ dad he had a boyfriend. _Crap_. “Okay!”

“Yeah. Um.” He kept hesitating, as if he were nervous. “She wants to know...if you want to join us for Thanksgiving.”

“ _Oh_.”

 

* * *

 

The trees outside their window shone in a gradient of orange and yellow and red.

“Blaine, stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know _what_. Besides, you know I need to memorize these lines. It’s for my final.”

“You could take a _break_.”

“ _No_ , I absolutely cannot!”

“ _Ugh_. Fine. Here, let me help.”

“What? _You_ , acting out a Shakespeare play?”

“You’d be surprised. I’m actually quite good.”

“Sure. Next you’ll be telling me you can sing.”

“Like I said, babe. You’d be surprised.”

“...”

“What?”

“ _Stop_ looking at me like that!”

 

* * *

 

It was awkward to explain to his dad. Kurt had never _had_ a boyfriend before. He kept pacing around the room and biting his thumb as the phone rang.

“Dad, please don’t be mad,” was the first thing Kurt said after Burt Hummel picked up with a, “ _hey, bud.”_

Bad way to start, granted. Burt’s tone turned skeptical, and Kurt lifted his chin and tried to sound casual. Beginning with, _“_ I have good news.” Then having to say, _“_ I’m dating someone.”

After his dad replied with an excited, “ _Well, who is he?_ ” Kurt’s heart actually lifted in relief and joy.

However, Burt soon realized that the name of Kurt’s boyfriend and his roommate were the same. He clarified with Kurt to make sure. Then he sighed, then he chuckled, and then Burt said he was happy for Kurt and couldn’t wait to meet this Blaine.

And considering how Kurt was in Blaine’s pick-up truck driving to his house, Burt was completely okay with him going to the Anderson’s for Thanksgiving. Adele’s newest song was playing softly over the radio. Kurt stared out the passenger window, twisting his scarf between his fingers.

Blaine looked over at him. “You okay?”

“Hm?” Kurt looked back. “Yeah, fine.”

Blaine made a half-smile and tilted his head.

“It’s just,” Kurt looked down at his scarf. Scarlet with a hint of gold in the thread, perfect for autumn weather. “I’m nervous about your parents.”

“Why? They’re not the Mafia. My mom sells makeup and my dad is a doctor.”

“I know.”

“And my brother Cooper will be there. He’s an actor, you’d like him.”

“But what if they don’t like me?”

Blaine took one hand off the steering wheel and reached over to catch one of Kurt’s hands, fitting it with his own. “Then I’ll politely ask them to get their head out of their ass. Because, you, Kurt Hummel, are the single most interesting person in all of Ohio.”

Kurt snorted and blushed slightly. “Sap.”

“I can be romantic,” Blaine said with a grin.

 

* * *

 

_How was it???_ Mercedes texted him that evening. _Were they nice??_

Right now, it was around ten PM. Blaine was taking a shower, Kurt sat on Blaine’s bed. There wasn’t much to his room, but more than Kurt expected. Green walls with thin white stripes and mahogany furniture. His bed was large with grey-and-red plaid sheets. There was a flat screen TV off to the side. An hourglass, for some reason, stood on his nightstand, all the red sand at the bottom.

 Everything about the Anderson home felt strikingly different than the Blaine Kurt knew at college. Which made Kurt think Blaine didn’t decorate his childhood bedroom. Maybe that’s why he never went home over the weekend.

Kurt’s thumbs hovered over his phone’s keyboard, unsure how to respond.

Blaine’s mother, Pam, was more than welcoming earlier. She greeted Kurt with a big hug and even bigger smile. She was short and thin and had beautiful brown curly hair, and they exchanged compliments on each other’s outfits. She greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek and noted he needed to get a haircut soon. Blaine just shook his curls out to make it messier and Pam rolled her eyes.

Cooper was next. Blaine’s older brother was lounging in the living room and watching some trashy reality show on the TV. He certainly dressed more like Blaine than Pam did, so Kurt could understand how _they_ were related. Leather jacket and worn jeans. He perked up when Kurt entered along with the rest.

“My, oh my! So this is the famous Kurt I’ve been hearing about!” Cooper beamed at him, his teeth sparkling white. He grasped Kurt’s hand firmly when they shook. Kurt glanced to his side—Blaine was blushing so red.

Yet, Blaine’s father was another story. A story Kurt had never heard before.

Jay Anderson arrived just in time for dinner, greeting Pam with a hug and mentioning a woman named ‘Adaline.’

Jay Anderson certainly knew how to have a presence. He was a tall, stoic-faced Asian man with hair styled back in gel. He wore a plain grey suit and a scarlet red tie. Kurt glanced down at his scarlet red scarf and wanted a sinkhole to appear under his chair right then and there.

Jay Anderson sat at the head of the table during dinner. Cooper appeared more relaxed than Blaine, but no one was _chipper_ during the meal. Pam was the only one keeping conversation going, however. It was _Thanksgiving_ for goodness sake.

“So, Kurt,” Pam said at one point, her conversation about Cooper’s newest commercial ending quicker than she anticipated (even though, it seemed Cooper loved to talk about himself, but he loved mashed potatoes more). “What are you studying?”

“W-well.” Kurt straightened his spine, feeling as if he were put under a spotlight. “I’m majoring in Drama.”

“Oh, theater?” Cooper asked. When Kurt nodded, he grinned. “Awesome. I loved my acting classes.”

“What do you intend on doing with this degree?” Jay asked. He hardly spoke during dinner. All eyes turned to him, and then Kurt.

Kurt refrained from putting his guard down. If there was anything he caught on tonight, it was he needed Blaine’s father’s approval. “I want to perform on Broadway someday.”

Jay nodded slowly, his eyes down as he carefully cut his turkey. Once stabbing a piece on his fork, he looked up and said, “Well, it’s good you have a plan for your future.”

It was the slight glance at Blaine that set everything off.

_They were interesting_ , is what Kurt typed in response. _They’re rich too, I think._

Mercedes’ reply was quick. _Oh my god!!! Jackpot!! :P_

Kurt sighed and tossed his phone over to his opened night bag on the floor. It landed atop of his folded pajamas. Blaine had muttered to his mother that they were going to bed early. She smiled with tired eyes and wished them goodnight. Cooper had shouted after them not to make too much racket, and Pam swatted his arm.

The door opened and Blaine stepped back into the room, having Kurt turn his head and his heart jumped at the sight. A white towel covered Blaine’s waist, and that was it. He was using another towel (green, like the walls) to scrub his hair dry. Kurt couldn’t tear his eyes away as his boyfriend walked on over, taking the towel away from his face and shaking his wet curls like a dog.

Blaine noticed Kurt staring and smirked. “Like what you see?”

Snapping his hanging mouth shut, Kurt squinted and made a frown. “I dunno. There’s not much to look at.”

Blaine threw the green towel at him, and Kurt yelped.

When walking up to the bedroom, Blaine told him not to worry about Cooper’s comment, for his mother’s room was down the hall and Cooper’s was downstairs. He made emphasis on _mother’s room_ and not _parent’s room_. The puzzle pieces started clicking together.

“You feeling better?” Kurt asked, scooting backwards on the bed and crossing his legs, making room for Blaine to sit down.

Blaine kneeled on the bed’s edge, eyebrows lowering. What do you mean?” _Instantly_ defensive, Kurt predicted this would happen. “I’m _fine_.”

“You...you’re dad—”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about him now.”

“Blaine.”

Jay left almost immediately after dinner. Kurt had awkwardly said his goodbyes. He didn’t know how else to react, it was _his_ boyfriend who snapped at dinner. Who yelled at Jay and Jay yelled back. Pam shut them both up, doing so as if she had done it a hundred times before.

“Are your parents…?” Kurt tried bringing up now, watching Blaine’s jaw work and his bare chest expand quickly.

“They split last year,” Blaine answered flatly.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever.”

“So...um, Adaline, is, uh—”

“A bitch?”

“ _No_ , Blaine. I meant—”

“They’re not married, so she can’t be my evil stepmother yet.”

“ _Blaine_.”

“Kurt, if you would ever _meet_ her—”

Sighing, Kurt reached over to grab one of Blaine’s hand. Their fingers easily laced together. “I’m...I’m sorry, alright? This can’t be easy.”

Blaine shrugged, eyes down at their linked hands. “I’m not special because my family is fucked up.”

_Is that why you’re like this?_ Kurt wondered to himself, watching his boyfriend and chewing his bottom lip. The house was so elegant, the untouched clothes in Blaine’s closet look as if they belong to a prep school boy. Today, Blaine wore a grey shirt under his signature jacket along with dirty sneakers and jeans with grass stains. Kurt could see the tattoos weaving around his shoulders right now. How did Blaine contrast with all of this?

But, Kurt wasn’t going to question him now. He’s pretty sure he knew the answer, anyway. “Well…” He squeezed Blaine’s hand playfully. “We don’t have to worry about them for the rest of the night. What would you like to do?”

There was the TV, they could watch a movie. Or, finally begin watching _Scandal_. How has it that they’ve been dating this long and Kurt had never shown Blaine _Scandal—_?

A corner of Blaine’s mouth quirked. “If it were up to me, I’d have my way with you.” And his smirk widened as he leaned towards Kurt, the familiar desire appearing in his eyes—

Kurt stopped him with a finger to Blaine’s puckered lips. “ _Skin routine_ first, mister. Do you have any idea who it is you are dating?”

He laughed as he hurried off the bed, seeing Blaine collapse to the mattress in defeat. “ _Fuck_. I completely forgot that _Kurt Hummel_ is my boyfriend.”

Kurt still savored the fact that Blaine peeked an eye open to check out his ass as he sauntered away to the bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

No, they didn’t _do it_ at Blaine’s house.

(Although Kurt admittedly wanted to).

The timing wasn’t right. Which was fine, Kurt accepted that. Except, they went to Kurt’s parent’s house the day after Thanksgiving.

Which was apparently the proper time to begin... _practicing_.

It made Kurt blush thinking he finally did... _that_...on his childhood bed. Somehow he pictured it happening elsewhere. Fate thought otherwise.

Everything began when Blaine stepped through the door and shook Kurt’s father’s hand for the first time. Burt studied him up and down, not making a comment but certainly having a look on his face that questioned, _Why did my son pick this guy?_

Sure, Blaine didn’t _look_ like the musicians and movie stars Kurt used to hang up on his bulletin boards throughout high school. Never mind that he actually shaved and combed his hair today, there was the fact of the piercings, and the tattoos, and the black leather jacket.

Carole, Kurt’s stepmother, welcomed Blaine with a hug and told him to make himself at home. She then hugged Kurt too, and quickly whispered if he could help finish cooking, because she had _no idea_ what to do.

While in the kitchen, Kurt overheard Blaine and Burt’s conversation happening in the other room. As it turned out, they were both fans of football.

The Situation, as Kurt put it, happened when the parents decided it was late enough to go to bed. The problem, being, that their two kids were in college so they used the guest room as a storage space. And considering Finn was home for the holiday as well, his bedroom wouldn’t work. Which meant, Burt announced with a stern expression, an air mattress for Blaine would be set up in Kurt’s room.

(As if Blaine was going to sleep on the _air mattress_ ).

It wasn’t like spending the night at the Anderson’s. Blaine there had been tense and slightly off, like there was always something on his mind. Kurt knew what, so he didn’t expect anything.

However.

The Hummel-Hudson’s was different. Blaine enjoyed his day-after-Thanksgiving meal. Burt hardly batted an eye when Blaine told him his college plans. “ _Hey, Finn’s like that too. I’m sure you’ll find your path eventually.”_ They watched football after supper with Finn as Kurt and Carol skimmed through the latest Vogue magazine together.

In fact, Kurt hadn’t seen Blaine this at ease around adults. It was refreshing for the both of them, and Kurt could see it in how Blaine behaved. Everything was suddenly more fun, lighter, _freer_.

“Hey,” Blaine said from Kurt’s bed, watching Kurt twist back on the lids of his moisturizer. He was sitting on a leg bent under him, but he leaned forward to tug the back of Kurt’s robe.

Kurt sighed, not looking up. “What is it, dear?”

“Do you think your dad likes me?”

Kurt turned his head over his shoulder, seeing Blaine’s hopeful face. “Yeah? Why do you ask?”

“I dunno,” Blaine was beginning to smile stupidly. “Just wondering.”

“Weirdo.”

Blaine laughed, and tugged his robe again.

See, Burt trusted Kurt and understood that he was an adult and already _living_ with his boyfriend, but still gave them a raise of the eyebrows as he wished them goodnight. He knew what could happen when the two were alone.

Three steps away from his vanity to his bed and Blaine was kissing him. He had to tilt his head up greatly to meet Kurt’s mouth, and Kurt lazily draped his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, linking his fingers where they met.

Hands blindly searched for his robe’s belt. Kurt’s kiss turned into a pressed smile, and he said with closed eyes, “I know what you’re doing, Anderson.”

“ _Anderson?_ ” Blaine chuckled before kissing his bottom lip. “Weren’t you calling me _‘dear’_ fucking thirty seconds ago?”

“Can’t recall,” was the last thing Kurt said before climbing onto Blaine’s lap.

The bedroom door was shut and locked, Kurt made sure of this. The air mattress was set up in the corner, but _fuck that_. Kurt’s robe was being tugged off by familiar warm hands and tossed that direction. Now straddling his boyfriend’s lap in nothing but his camo-blue underwear, Kurt tugged at Blaine’s worn pajama shirt, getting that off before pushing him back on the bed.

He loved this. He loved this feeling of them both unashamedly _wanting_ each other. Laying on his back, Blaine’s hands raked through Kurt’s soft hair when he leaned over for a kiss. Kurt’s pulse raced with giddy, but he gently guided Blaine’s hands away from his hair and down lower to grab his ass.

Blaine made a little frown and pulled away from the kiss. “What? I can’t touch your hair?”

“No,” Kurt replied, grinning. “I just thought this was a better idea.” He pressed backwards against Blaine’s palms.

His boyfriend had no complaints after that.

So Kurt was still aware of the _‘practice’_ promise he made Blaine and still _very much_ wanted to do that, however he couldn’t help but freeze in surprise when Blaine intentionally dipped his hands under the waistband of his underwear and squeezed his bare cheeks with equal amounts of desire before.

They broke apart from kissing again, Blaine to see Kurt’s face and Kurt to stare back with the shock he experienced. Then, Blaine with confidence, Blaine with no insecurities or hesitations, got a better grip on Kurt’s ass and used it to flip their positions. In doing this not only did Kurt feel his breath go away momentarily, but also his last article of clothing was slipping off to the point of no purpose.

Blaine got rid of that problem soon enough.

It was strange to process this scene Kurt found himself in. Him, completely naked under his shirtless boyfriend, in the bedroom he’d grown up in, laying on the bed he assumed he’d never get action in.

The fabric of Blaine’s sweatpants rubbed against his bare legs. His boyfriend took no time to resume kissing him feverishly again, his tongue and teeth everywhere. Those warm hands were all over the place—holding Kurt’s face or running down his chest or squeezing his ass. Kurt felt he couldn’t keep up.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, kissing the corner of his mouth before speaking again. His eyes were shut tight still, the front of his pants tented. He sucked in a breath. “I, uh, I...I—” His hazel eyes opened slowly and his breathing eased. “I brought lube.”

The way he said it came out in a rush. Kurt blinked up at him twice.

Oh.

“Oh,” he said.

_Oh_.

“ _No_ , no, it’s not what you—” Blaine stopped himself to squeeze his eyes shut again. His head hung as he exhaled harshly. “I’m so fucking stupid. Look, uh, I brought some in case... _god_ , like, in case y-you—”

Blaine rarely gets flustered. Kurt had to bite back a smile, thinking he was pining over Blaine’s _confidence_ before.

“Where is it?” Kurt asked.

“In my bag.” Meaning it had been tossed on the air mattress along with Kurt’s robe and underwear.

Kurt didn’t hide back a smile this time. “Do you want me to go get it, or will you?”

Nerves crawled back under his skin after the cloud of, _Aha! Badass Anderson gets embarrassed too! We’re both awkward idiots!_ vanished. Kurt now faced the reality of his boyfriend kneeling between his spread legs with a bottle of brand-named lubrication.

“Can—” Kurt hesitated when Blaine met his eyes. “Can we go under the covers?”

His thick eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Why…? I’ve seen everything before. I’m looking at it right now.”

“I _know_ , Blaine.” He rolled his eyes as blood rushed to his face. “I’m just...cold, I guess?”

Perhaps he thought his anxiousness would lessen if he was surrounded by a cocoon of warmth. It _helped_ , certainly. Kurt didn’t feel like he was now on display for his four white walls to see. His boyfriend adjusted himself to return between Kurt’s opened legs, and smirked when he realized the sheet only forced their bodies to be closer together.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he said, leaning on one of his elbows while his right hand snuck downward and disappeared.

Kurt snorted at the pet name, and the seductive expression on Blaine’s face. “Hey, Romeo.”

“You feeling okay?” A brush of skin against his thigh, then nudging past his cock and balls.

Kurt nodded against his pillow. “Mhm.”

“Relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Kurt could only nod again and _not_ relax.

So Blaine leaned around and pressed a long, sweet kiss to his neck. Kurt exhaled, blinking and staring past his boyfriend’s wild curls and up at the ceiling. Blaine smelled like apple spice. He always smelled like that.

“ _Relax_ ,” Blaine whispered again, close to his ear. A fingertip pressed to his hole.

Kurt closed his eyes and inhaled.

Yes, he would later spill to his friends when they begged for all the details, it was _the weirdest thing he’s ever felt in his life._ At first, anyway. It’s his boyfriend’s finger pushing inside him. Nothing much else to it, just a blunt pressure in his ass.

But then Blaine began moving and Kurt’s jaw dropped down slightly. _Now_ it felt different, felt like _more_. Blaine kept looking down at him from his position on his propped elbow, licking his lips and watching Kurt’s face. His molten-gold eyes were soft, somehow, not blazing. He still seemed nervous.

Why was _he_ nervous? He’s probably done this countless times…

One became two, but barely. Kurt bit hard on his lip and dug his fingers into Blaine’s shoulders, no matter how many times Blaine told him to relax. The amount of lube didn’t help. The comforting kisses to his neck didn’t change anything, except make Kurt ticklish and giggle.

No one ended up with an orgasm, either. Blaine tried, with one finger inside and his other hand stroking Kurt’s cock. Though with all the high-strung emotions, nothing happened. Kurt shrugged it off and Blaine made a joke how his skills were slacking. Kurt swatted his chest.

After they slipped into pajamas and shut the lights off, Kurt looked opposite of him to his boyfriend, and played with his long fingers against the pillow. “You know,” Kurt whispered through the dark. “They say practice makes perfect.”

He could tell Blaine was grinning when he said, “I was thinking the same thing.”    

       

* * *

 

“Did you do it? At Blaine’s house?”

“ _No_.”

“What? Why not?!”

“I don’t know, Tina. The timing wasn’t right, I guess.”

“ _Ugh_. I was really cheering for you, Kurt.”

“You’re highly invested in this.”

“What? I just want my best friend to finally get some good dick—”

“ _Tina!_ _Shut up_ , we’re in the library—!”

Nevertheless, the librarians shushed her yet again.

 

* * *

 

Kurt’s swinging his bag over his shoulder when Blaine looked up from their dorm bed, asking, “Do you _have_ to go?”

“Yes.”

Blaine frowned. “Missing one meeting won't kill you.”

He checked his hair one last time in the mirror above the sink. “Blaine, I _like_ Drama Club.”

His boyfriend just sighed and flopped back down on the mattress.

Kurt turned his head over at him. It was almost seven o'clock, and Blaine had finished all his homework, of course. Even though finals were approaching, Blaine was _still_ done with everything before seven on a Thursday. No wonder he wanted Kurt to stay, he had nothing else going on.

Thinking, Kurt pinched his mouth. “You know,” he finally said, “you could come with, if you want.”

Blaine tilted his head. “To Drama Club?”

“Yeah. I mean,” Kurt shrugged, smiling a bit. “I bet you'll like it. Maybe even want to join?”

Blaine scoffed and rolled his eyes but Kurt wasn't getting a no, so he waited. And Blaine pinched his mouth as well, and Kurt’s smiling was widening until Blaine finally said, “Sure, I'll come. Just this once, though.”

 

* * *

 

Blaine _loved_ Drama Club.

He’d never admit it though, but Kurt could tell.

The rest of the club were more than pleased to have a new member, and they welcomed Blaine with opened arms. Tina made a point to sit by Blaine and tilt her chin up with pride, as if she herself brought Blaine here.

“He can sing, I bet,” she said at one point. “Blaine, would you sing for us sometime?”

To Kurt’s surprise, Blaine agreed.

Blaine stayed afterwards to talk to the advisor about officially joining. The upcoming week he not-so-subtly asked Kurt when the next meetings were. Kurt caught him humming along to the musical soundtracks the club discussed.

Who would have thought?


	7. Chapter 7

Finals meant more work. More work meant stress. Stress lead to anxiety. Anxiety lead to procrastination.

And one would think Kurt’s go-to for procrastinating would be his boyfriend.

His boyfriend, whom Kurt agreed he wants to have sex with, was now giving Kurt other messages.

“Baby, babe, _c’mon_ ,” Blaine laughed, catching Kurt’s hands that were tugging at Blaine’s shirt and pulling them away. “I know you have that paper to finish.”

“Since when do you care?” Kurt asked, voice higher than normal. Later on, when a million assignments weren’t hanging over his head, he’ll look back on this moment. When he’s frazzled to the point of latching on to any form of distraction, his hair lacking product and his skin flushed pink. “Please, can we, for five minutes—”

Kurt leaned into Blaine, wanting to kiss his mouth and lay him on the bed so they both can lay down forever and never get up. But Blaine stopped him, laughing some more.

“Kurt,” Blaine tried looking at him seriously, but the amused smile wouldn’t go away. “I know you’re hot for me, but now is the worst of times.”

“Now is the _best_ of times,” Kurt aimed for a kiss again.

Blaine dodged away. “It’s just five pages.”

“Yeah, due in two days, I’ve got time.”

“But you have to study tomorrow, too.”

“I’ll make time.”

“Baby.”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt whined.

“How about—” Blaine began, but an idea lit up in Kurt’s head. He quickly shuffled as best he could in Blaine’s lap, hands around his face and eyes wider than ever.

“We could practice some more,” Kurt said. When he saw that shut Blaine up real quick, he grinned and lowered his eyelids. “We haven’t in so long and…” He tilted his mouth towards Blaine’s neck, giving it a ghost of a kiss before, “I miss your fingers inside me.”

His boyfriend’s breathing had quickened as his jaw clamped tight. Kurt grinned wider and kissed his neck again. _He had him there._

But, to Kurt’s dismay, Blaine gently pushed him away and shook his head. “Nope. Nope.” His voice sounded _strained_ just saying that one word. “Not right now. Not when—Kurt, we can’t right now and you know it.”

Kurt huffed and slouched his shoulders in defeat. In pity, Blaine pecked a sweet kiss to his lips and smiled. “Afterwards. I promise.”

“It’s gonna take me forever. I barely have a thesis!”

“Well,” Blaine said. “Maybe I can help. All my professors say I have excellent writing skills.”

“...exactly _how_ many things are you good at?”

“Get your paper done, and I’ll show you a few more.”

 

* * *

 

A list of events that happened during Finals Week:

Tina stayed awake for thirty hours running solely on Starbucks coffee.

Kurt took a nap on Mercedes’ fuzzy purple carpet.

Blaine made a three AM trip to the local Walmart because Kurt had a sudden craving for chicken nuggets and couldn’t focus on studying without eating _something_.

Artie finished three Netflix documentaries about conspiracy theories instead of finishing his project. He was quite proud of this achievement regardless.

Sam invited Blaine and Kurt to a party that week, and high-strung-on-stress-Kurt almost screamed in his face.

Mercedes stress-cried to Kurt twice in the cafeteria and both times Kurt held her and offered to buy her a smoothie.

At four AM, Kurt and Blaine stopped studying to have a weirdly deep conversation about the universe, the meaning of life, and why the alphabet is arranged the way it is.

Tina took a nap in the library and snored so loud the librarians woke her up to kick her out.

Blaine sang in front of Kurt for the first time…

And Kurt swore his heart dropped out of his chest.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Kurt whispered to Blaine, the night before their last final. Kurt had memorized his script back to front, and Blaine argued you can’t really _study_ math. So they’re lying under their covers, legs intertwined as Kurt’s laptop balances on top of their knees, playing a Netflix romcom. “You could major in Drama.”

Blaine didn’t look away from the screen (he was _really_ invested in the plot). “Mm?”

Kurt played with Blaine’s loose curls, brushing them aside and swirling them around his index finger. “Mhmm. I mean, you are good at singing.”

He saw a corner of Blaine’s mouth quirk up. “Really?”

Kurt smiled. “ _Really_.”

“I mean,” Blaine said oh-so-casually, “it’s a good thing I talked to the head of the Drama department yesterday, huh?”

Kurt’s grin buried itself into Blaine’s hair. “Mhm.”

 

* * *

 

Tina compared surviving Finals Week to crawling out of Tartarus. Artie reminded her that it’s only going to get worse with their upcoming years. With the rage in Tina’s eyes, Kurt expected her to break up with Artie right then and there.

Sam, after understanding that pretty much everyone was studying that week, moved that party to Friday night, the last night before Winter Break started. They agreed to come. Besides, they deserve to celebrate. They had crawled out of _Tartarus_ , for god’s sake.

And boy, were people celebrating. The frat house was crammed with tired-eyed students bursting out that one last hurrah of energy, cursing out various quizzes and professors before downing a drink. Kurt witness a guy from his History of Theater class climb onto the beer pong table and strip his shirt off, swinging it above his head as the crowd cheered.

College. What a ride.

Kurt didn’t want to drink, but Blaine took a few sips from whatever Sam handed him. Tina was gone enough to give Artie a lap dance. Mercedes was filming it all for her Snapchat Story.

Whoever was DJing this party put on a Katy Perry classic, and people went nuts. Everyone knew the words and were singing along off-key. Blaine raised his red solo cup and belted out a verse in perfect pitch.

Kurt giggled and couldn’t stop smiling at him. Blaine Anderson, wild-haired, tattooed, leather jacket and all, somehow stole his heart. And he sang like a dream. Kurt couldn’t quite get over it.

“What?” Blaine asked, noticing the staring and mirroring Kurt’s grin.

Kurt shook his head fondly. “You’re a good singer.”

Blaine lifted his eyebrows before tossing his drink to a nearby trash can. “You don’t say?”

Kurt nodded and laughed again. Tonight had that atmosphere of relief and delight. It was the absence of test taking, for sure. But also that knowledge that everyone here won’t be seeing each other for a month. They had the chance to celebrate one last time.

Blaine nodded over to the dance floor. “You wanna?”

“Wanna what?”

“Dance with me?”

Tell Kurt of sixteen exactly how he’d achieve his dream of dancing with a boy, and his jaw would surely drop. There Kurt was now, bopping his head and shimmying his hips to _Teenage Dream_ which boomed through the surrounding speakers, all while his boyfriend kept a hand on his hip so their bodies could be flush together even with everyone knocking into them.

And Blaine sang to him again, lips to the shell of his ear, so only he could hear. Kurt’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

 

* * *

 

“I’m exhausted,” Kurt declared when they made it back to their room at three AM. They wanted to leave earlier to get the sleep they needed catching up on, but more iconic songs came on and the thought of _one more dance can’t hurt_ turned into an extra hour of partying.

Blaine kicked off his shoes and shoved his suitcase against the wall to make room for walking. “We’ll just...set our alarms later. What time was your dad picking you up?”

Oh. Right. They were leaving tomorrow for break, Kurt almost forgot. Except Blaine’s family was taking a cruise and Kurt remembered they wouldn’t be seeing each other for—

So long.

The lump in his throat was quickly swallowed back down.

“Uh. Noon? So I’ll wake up...around ten?” he said, sitting at the edge of their mattress while fishing out his phone and changing his alarm.

“You okay?” Blaine asked, watching him.

Kurt nodded multiple times. “Yeah. Of course.”

He heard the footsteps approach and Kurt looked up in time to see Blaine lean down and kiss him. Not a quick kiss, like Kurt expected, but an unhurried, deep kiss. One of Blaine’s hands slid up to cup his jaw. Kurt’s phone went loose between his fingers.

Blaine pulled back to say, almost rushed, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Kurt exhaled a short laugh. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“I really wish I wasn’t gonna be on a fucking cruise.”

“It’s two weeks.”

“Without you.”

Kurt twirled his fingers into the baggy part of Blaine’s shirt. “I’ll call you every night.”

Blaine huffed and looked down, his long eyelashes fanning his cheeks.

That’s the moment Kurt’s pulse jumped. Just for a beat. But his fingers tightened ever so slightly in Blaine’s shirt. He felt like, in that moment, his lungs forgot to breathe.

“Blaine?” he asked very quietly.

Golden irises looked up at his face. “Yeah?”

“Can you,” Kurt gulped. “Kiss me again?”

Blaine nodded, a bit confused on why a simple request made Kurt like this. But, Kurt paused him once more to add, “And take off my clothes.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a _want_.

Within minutes Kurt was lying on his back with his knees bent slightly. Their light was off, but his desk lamp was on so they could still see. He felt his hands trembling, and goosebumps showed up everywhere.

“You’re sure?” Blaine asked. He stared down at Kurt with the most searching expression. It was as if he spotted the slightest chance of _no_ , he’d be away in an instant.

“Yes.” Even to his own ears, Kurt’s voice sounded soft. Vulnerable. More goosebumps emerged.

Blaine nodded. His shirt was long gone, next to Kurt’s on the floor. And Kurt’s pants. The taking off of clothes was easy. In fact, Blaine seemed eager to do so. He had practically clawed off Kurt’s layers before pushing him backwards on the mattress. Perhaps now, since reality slapped them in the face, he was realizing what they’re doing was _real_.

Kurt reached up to cup the back of Blaine’s neck and pull him downwards, kissing him. Blaine’s body relaxed immediately. He moaned a bit against Kurt’s mouth.

Kurt nodded underneath him. “I want you,” he said, “so bad.”

“I want you too,” Blaine told him. He kissed him harder. “I’ve wanted you…” His lips were crushing against Kurt’s skin. “Since, _god_ , since forever.”

His hips were pushing down. Kurt raised his upwards. His fingernails dug into Blaine’s neck when Blaine grinded against him.

A car horn honked loudly outside. They paused everything to snicker. Of course that would happen.

But it gave Blaine the chance to meet his eyes again. His face went soft when he asked Kurt, “Why now?”

“What do you mean?” Kurt said. “You know I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“No, I mean, like.” He sighed. “It’s...not romantic. I wanted to make it romantic.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “ _You_ wanted to make this romantic?”

“Yeah! Like, I don’t fucking know, make a playlist for background music? With really good shit, too. Like that Adele song you love so much. Maybe rent a hotel room for the night. I dunno.” Blaine’s cheeks grew pink. “I’d get us some good wine and...stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re amazing.” Kurt beamed up at him.

“Our dorm room isn’t exactly Embassy Suites.”

“It’s _our_ room, though,” Kurt pointed out. “Our room...on our bed.”

Blaine nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He smiled too.

They were kissing again. Whatever exhaustion before ceased to exist. Blaine’s lips found their way to the crook of Kurt’s neck, innocent pecking turned to hard sucking. Kurt panted, arching his back, connecting their bodies. His cock strained against his underwear.

Finished with the mark he’d been working on, Blaine came back up with wet lips and asked, “Lube?” in which Kurt nodded. In this time Kurt shuffled out of his last layer, tossing it with the rest of their clothes.

Then, while wiggling his toes, he frowned. “Wait.”

Blaine paused from digging through his drawer. “What?”

“Do people...wear socks? While...doing this?”

Blaine cracked a smirk. “Sure?”

“Well, you would know best!”

Blaine shook his head. “Having anal sex a whopping three times doesn’t make me an expert, Kurt.”

Shock immobilized Kurt’s body.

Three?

He was expecting double digits, _at least_. Only three? That can’t be right, that didn’t make any sense.

“Wh—” He honestly was stunned for words. “How—you always had guys in here—”

Blaine shrugged as he walked back over. “And we did other stuff besides the butt stuff.”

“But...people were always talking...about…”

“Kurt,” Blaine smiled at him as he eased him back onto the bed. “People have different definitions of sex.”

The confusion was still evident enough Blaine kissed the worry lines on his forehead. As he too stripped naked, Kurt watched and thought.

How was it, that the Blaine he knew first day coming here was completely different than the Blaine beside him now?

“Three times…” he repeated. “That’s not even three _people_ that’s just three _separate times_ —”

“Kurt, babe,” Blaine must have considered his bewilderment adorable, because he was giggling as he squeezed some lube onto his fingers. “It was years ago.”

_Years ago?! That means he wasn't even doing that with guys here!_

Before his mind could be boggled any further, Blaine’s clean hand touched his thigh to spread them apart while the other wandered lower, pressing against his entrance. Kurt gasped, but his mind came back to the present.

He hummed, relaxing onto the pillows. “Mm, yeah…”

“You like that?” Blaine pressed his finger farther in. It wouldn’t take long until two. They’ve been practicing, after all.

Kurt gave him a look. “You know I do.”

Blaine leaned forward to give him a kiss. Then, his head went lower, and his mouth attached to one of Kurt’s nipples.

Eyes squeezing shut, Kurt gasped louder and unknowingly spread his legs wider. _That_ was new. And absolutely wonderful.

Two fingers moved inside him until Kurt requested for three. He knew it would take longer to adjust, it always did. He kept his eyes closed and focused on breathing. His eyebrows pinched at the stretch.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Kurt exhaled.

“Y-you look, uh.” The falter in Blaine’s voice had Kurt peek his eyes open. Casanova Anderson appeared incredibly flustered, unsure whether to stare at Kurt or to the side. “You look good. Right now.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, amused. “I mean, I assumed by your…” His eyes flickered down between Blaine’s legs.

Blaine pursed his lips to keep from laughing and curled his fingers upwards. Kurt’s mouth fell open and he clutched on to Blaine’s nearby arm. Clearly, Blaine won this round.

Everyone warned Kurt sex would be awkward. Sure, that was true, but no one told him it would be this much _fun_.

But when Blaine stopped and asked, “You ready?” That daunting reality took over his body for two entire seconds.

Kurt did nod, eventually. His chest grew lighter.

“Um,” Blaine said, condom between his fingers now. “It’s, uh, easier for your first time, if...you’re on your stomach.”

Mister Three Times was still the more experienced here. Kurt considered arguing, because of course he wanted to see Blaine’s face through it all, and he wanted Blaine to see him. But, Kurt has also seen Blaine’s dick, and it wasn’t _small_ by any means. And he didn’t want to remember his first time as _painful_ …

Reluctantly, he shifted over to his stomach. Nerves spiked through his system again. Why was it scarier when he couldn’t see a damn thing?

Blaine adjusted him, brought his hips up a little. Now Kurt felt like he was on display, waiting. He heard the condom wrapper tear and he wondered if he should be watching? Helping? Doing something over than stare wide-eyed at his pillowcase, his fingers balled in front of him?

Blaine touched his waist. “Good?”

Kurt nodded, feeling his hair tap against his forehead. “Mhmm.”

“Just breathe, okay?”

“Am I not breathing now?”

Blaine chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

So Kurt inhaled, then exhaled. He did it again. In and out. And again, in and out. And—

Pressure against his hole. Constant, hard, _forward_ pressure. Slick with lube and utterly resilient. He tried to keep his jaw shut but couldn’t. His face buried into his pillow and he couldn’t hold back his high gasp.

Blaine’s hand smoothed up his spine. “Okay?”

“S-slower.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Kurt kept breathing but it felt like his lungs were being clogged. Every part of his body broke out in sweat and he couldn’t stop _whining_. He was being stuffed and it was so _full_ and overwhelming he felt like he might break. He could just shatter onto the sheets, knowing Blaine could put him back together only so he could fall apart again.

He found himself pushing back into Blaine now. His spine arched. “ _God_ ,” Kurt exhaled.

“You want me to start moving?” Blaine asked.

“Just...give me a sec.”

Three fingers were _nothing_ compared to this. Kurt’s fists were so tight, marks were left on his palms from his fingernails. He relaxed them, and breathed again.

Blaine’s cool lips pressed against the spot between his shoulder blades. “You feel amazing,” he whispered to Kurt.

Kurt huffed. “So do you.”

Blaine chuckled and kissed that spot again. Then, his forehead pressed there, and he exhaled too. They both were adjusting.

A few moments later, Kurt nodded to himself before saying to Blaine, “You can move now.”

Lifting himself up, Blaine had both palms pressed on the mattress either side of Kurt. His cock eased out slowly, only to push back in. He did this again, and again.

Kurt bit into his pillow. Oh god it felt _so good—_

Blaine gradually picked up pace, shifting his hands so they rested at Kurt’s tiny waist, then to grope his ass for a bit. At that point Blaine must have unconsciously moved faster. Kurt didn’t mind at all.

It came to Blaine draping himself over Kurt, stilling for a moment so he could press his lips next to Kurt’s ear. His breathing was heavy, and Kurt could feel the body heat against his back. But with this position, Blaine’s hips _jerked_ forward so suddenly and roughly, it took Kurt’s breath away. A noise between a moan and a gasp escaped his lips.

“ _Blaine…_ ”

“Yeah, baby?”

“ _God_ , it’s…” The pace was quickening to the point of Blaine _snapping_ his hips forward. Kurt’s breath couldn’t keep up. “F-f _uck._ It’s so…”

“You’re so fucking sexy, Kurt.” Blaine pressed a messy kiss into his sweaty hair. “Keep making those noises, yeah?”

“C-can I,” He was panting out his words by now. “Can I turn over? I wanna see you.”

“Fuck. Yeah, yeah sure.”

The awkward shuffling lasted less than ten seconds, thank god. Blaine had to hold the condom to pull out but Kurt was on his back in record time, his legs falling open just as fast. Blaine hoisted his waist up to position correctly, and while Kurt felt a bit ridiculous in this pose, he couldn’t help but be distracted by the shimmer of sweat across Blaine’s skin, or the fact his hair was wilder than before, or the sight of his heaving chest.

_I’m sexy? Look at yourself._

Blaine was back inside him, quicker than the first time, and Kurt groaned in appreciation. The rhythm began again, except this time when Blaine leaned over him, his face was only inches from Kurt’s.

“Perfect,” Kurt whispered, blinking up at his boyfriend.

Either Blaine didn’t hear him correctly, or thought Kurt wasn’t talking about him.

The bed frame was tapping against the wall, Kurt noticed, but he hoped their neighbors didn’t. Blaine’s movements didn’t help the cause either. He shifted himself, one arm bent near Kurt’s head and the other holding his waist steady, then he not only brought his movements faster, but it was like he angled himself differently, lifting Kurt off the mattress and—

“O-oh, _god_.” Kurt slammed the back of his head against the pillow, mouth dropping open.

Blaine smirked. “Did I hit the right spot?”

“Do it _again—fuck—Blaine, oh my god.”_

Neighbors were out of the question now. Kurt was practically gulping for air, clutching on to any part of Blaine’s skin he could reach. Little grunts and groans came out of Blaine’s mouth, Kurt could hear. But his favorite was the needy little whines. This would happen with a particularly hard thrust which stayed in place for a moment, settling as deep as possible.

Kurt’s hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking it quickly in time with Blaine. The coiling heat was rising, and precum already leaked against his belly. “Close,” he said to Blaine.

Blaine dropped his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck, thrusting at a pace wilder than before. Kurt closed his eyes and tilted his nose towards the mess of raven hair next to him. He could smell apple spice.

“I love you,” Kurt whispered.

Then Kurt froze. His eyes shot open and his breath stalled in his throat. He hadn’t—oh shit, did he seriously _just say his first I love you in the middle of sex—?!_

Blaine slowed his movements and raised his head up to look at Kurt, and Kurt’s head was ringing with the realization of his slip-up to do anything but stare back. Blaine’s skin was flushed and his lips parted, air coming out in long exhales. He looked as if he were amazed.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

He crashed his lips to Kurt’s, kissing him so hard and passionately. A choking sob came out somehow from Kurt’s mouth, for he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

They continued with the matter at hand, of course. Blaine’s thrusting picked up and Kurt shuddered, tipping his head back and scrunched his eyes shut. He was close, and judging by Blaine’s irregular rhythm, his boyfriend was too.

Blaine angled himself in just the right way, driving his cock in deep, and Kurt stuttered out a gasp as his body seized and he came over his own fingers and abdomen. He was almost certain he saw stars.

Over him, Blaine hissed out a _fuck_ and Kurt watched him, dazed, as Blaine pounded into him, lifting the lower half of his body off the bed only a few more times before he too stilled, squeezed his eyes closed and hung his mouth open in a long moan. His arms were trembling.

Their panting became the only noise for the next moments. Kurt tilted his head against the damp pillow, waiting for any neighbors to knock loudly on the walls. Not a sound came.

Blaine kissed his cheek, lungs still trying to catch up, and held onto the condom as he pulled out. He told Kurt to relax again, and honestly that’s all Kurt felt like he could do. His thighs were shaking and the sweat around his body began to cool against the open air.

The sexy illusion died quickly. With sweat came stickiness. Lube was still wet between his legs. And his cum was drying on his belly.

“Ick,” he muttered.

Blaine laughed, returning from tossing the condom into their trash bin. “That bad, huh?”

“ _No!_ ” Kurt gaped at him, horrified at the context his boyfriend chose. “You were—that was—Blaine, I’m talking about _my cum_.”

“Gimme a sec, I’ll be back with a towel,” Blaine chuckled, standing and walking over to his laundry. Naked. He walked over stark naked and Kurt had no shame in staring.

Kurt blinked.

_Holy shit, that actually happened._

He covered his smile with a clean hand and sighed up at the ceiling.

Blaine may be labeled as a ‘bad boy’ around campus but he cleaned up Kurt like a proper gentleman. He even offered to grab some clothes for Kurt, but Kurt replied he wouldn’t mind if they just laid there as they were. Blaine grinned, tossing the towel aside.

“So,” said Blaine, scooting in beside Kurt and laying his head on the same pillow as him. He still smelled like apple spice, mixed with sweat and sex. Kurt now knew what sex smelled like, _weird_.

“So,” Kurt repeated, matching Blaine’s shy smile.

“Thoughts?”

Kurt twisted his mouth, gaze wandering to Blaine’s tattoos. They wrapped around his shoulders in beautiful line art. He began to trace them with his index finger. “It was incredible.”

“Yeah?”

From the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Blaine’s smile grow, and he nodded. “Mhm. But,” he paused his tracing, catching his boyfriend’s grin falter, “I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.”

Blaine’s mouth parted, and his smile turned sly. “Oh, I see.”

“Mhm.”

“Perhaps we’ll have to do it again.”

“Perhaps.”

“So you have some comparison.”

“Absolutely.”

“But, for your first time...it was alright?”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt looked at him as if he was ridiculous, “It was so...it was _fucking amazing_. It was—oh _my god_ , when you—and—” He needed to calm down. “It was really, _really_ good.”

One of Blaine's arms found its way around Kurt’s waist, and he tugged him closer. Blaine was smiling so much his cheeks were crinkling his eyes. His hair was still a mess though, and it tickled Kurt’s cheek when Blaine nuzzled his nose in the crook of his neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathed out.

Oh, yeah, that was also a thing.

Kurt shivered and giggled softly into Blaine’s hair. “Funny, because I love you, too.”


	8. Epilogue

Blaine Anderson remembered freshmen move-in day all too well.

He remembered lugging his suitcase full of crap up to his proper floor, the blaring music from his headphones blocking out every other frazzled parent and their newcomer college student. He remembered looking at the sip of paper he accidentally crumpled in his hand, sighing and turning a corner.

Room 206.

The door was already opened, and he caught the blur of his roommate. They told him the name of said roommate, but Blaine never saw any pictures. He didn’t know what to expect from someone named _Kurt Hummel_. But honestly, he didn’t give a shit either. Who cares if his roommate was a jock or a stoner or—

Blaine arrived at the threshold of the doorway, frozen in the middle of sliding off his headphones and almost losing grip of his suitcase.

_Fuck_.

Kurt Hummel had turned from sticking a poster on the wall. It was for _Phantom of the Opera_ on Broadway. His body was stretched to get the top corner. He was practically on his tip toes.

_Shit_.

He was lean and beautiful and glanced at Blaine up and down, blinking and wrinkling his brow.

_Oh no_.

“Hi,” Kurt said. Even his voice was beautiful. But that _look_ he was giving Blaine, wasn’t one Blaine hadn’t seen before.

In response, Blaine nodded curtly and yanked his suitcase over to the bed on the opposite side of the room.

His cheeks felt too warm.

Blaine was so fucked.

 

* * *

 

Winter Break couldn’t end soon enough.

Blaine pushed through the loitering freshmen crowding the dorm hallways, either carrying shit back into their rooms or greeting friends. Most were complaining to one another how they wished break would be longer. Blaine had never disagreed with them more.

Sure, he was admittedly excited to start taking those music and theater classes he actually _wanted_ to take. Sure, he was looking forward to seeing Sam and Tina and Mercedes and all his new friends again. But currently other matters were on his mind.

Today he wore jeans without holes or stains and a loose plaid shirt he got over the holidays. His mother said he looked good in colors besides black and grey. Blaine just hoped Kurt would enjoy the shade of red.

206—or to Blaine’s eyes, the gates of heaven—came into view. To think, the topic of dorms and college used to bring misery to Blaine. Now, joy spread a smile across his face, and he hurried to open the door.

The light was on. Their two separate beds were still pushed together, bearing both their pillows and bedsheets all mashed together in a soft canvas. It’s the same room Blaine saw moving day, yet it seemed warmer. More at home.

Perhaps it was the person who had his back turned to Blaine, too busy taking down the fairy lights that framed the window, because Kurt would argue that aesthetic was over for the season.

However, Kurt had paused only to quickly turn around. His sweater was navy blue with a tiny pattern of anchors etched into the fabric. His jeans were mint green and tight around his legs. But Blaine could only stare at his face, which lit up like a firefly at the sight of Blaine.

“Hi,” Blaine said, smiling.

Kurt dropped everything to run into his hug, winding his arms around Blaine’s neck to kiss him. _So_ unlike the beginning of the year.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s back, wanting to lift him up but knowing it was close to impossible considering their slight height difference. It ended up making Kurt squeak anyway, so their kiss turned into happily pressed smiles.

Yeah, Blaine was home. They both were.

Funny how the universe ends up working out in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read this lil fic and commented and gave kudos! I had so much fun writing this and I am so glad others enjoyed it as well. It feels strange that it's over so soon, but I'm happy with how it turned out :D  
> So yes, thank you thank you. And happy new year!!  
> <3


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